Be Still My Beating Heart
by Mythica
Summary: Trowa and Quatre are both drowning in their feelings for each other... something has got to give.


Gundam Wing is © of Bandai, Sunrise, and others. Be Still My Beating Heart is © of Sting and   
whomever wrote it. Not getting paid to do this, please don't sue, you know the spiel. 

**_Be Still My Beating Heart_**   
~*~ song lyrics   
* story

~*~   
Be still my beating heart   
It would be better to be cool   
It's not time to be open just yet   
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget   
~*~   
*   
Trowa Barton stood with his hands against the glass windowpane, staring out at the maze of lush   
gardens and fountains that lay before him, three stories down. Everything was blanketed in a   
serene navy blue darkness, a darkness that made his eyes go out of focus, lost. Thoughts swirled   
uncontrollably in his head. Part of him was going over the speech he had prepared to say to   
Quatre, that would explain everything. But that same part was trembling like a lost child, weak   
and unsure. Another part of him seemed to be yanking at him by the collar, telling him to get the   
hell in that bedroom and spill it, enough mental crap. Yet a third part scolded him for even   
thinking some of the things he had in the previous week. "What would Duo say?" Trowa chided   
himself. "That's easy. He would go into a whole dramatic speech about betraying God by having   
such impure, devilish thoughts. 'How could you even think of falling for Quatre? What makes   
you think he feels the same way about you? Why would he feel the same way about you?'" Then   
he'd stalk off, disgusted. "But what would Heero say?" Trowa bowed his head, remembering.   
"The only way to live a good life is to act on your emotions." But which of his emotions? What   
did he really want? "Quatre would never speak to me again if I told him and he didn't feel the   
same way. And the last thing I want is to lose him." He closed his eyes. "Then there really is   
nothing to do." He cringed as a wave of passionate thoughts hit him, sending his troubled mind   
reeling through images... Images he didn't want to see but wanted so badly to be real... Dizzy,   
he stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto it.   
*   
~*~   
Be still my beating heart   
Or I'll be taken for a fool   
It's not healthy to run at this pace   
The blood runs so red to my face   
~*~   
*   
Quatre Raberba Winner sat at his computer, typing furiously. It was as if he could drive back his   
thoughts with the bits of plastic under his fingers. Seeing it was useless, he stopped, leaning back   
into his huge soft swivel chair. He closed his eyes and covered his face, images seeping into his   
brain from all sides nonetheless. Images of things that were real, fantasies of things that could be   
real.... And all of them of him - Trowa Barton. The man Quatre loved. It was undeniable. Yet it   
was a concept that for its own sake could not be acknowledged. "How could you be so foolish,   
Quatre?" he thought. "How?" He had invited the gundam pilots to his mansion for the weekend,   
a sort of reunion, since he hadn't seen any of them for several months. He had purposely given   
Trowa the bedroom next to his. He was going to tell him his feelings. His crazy, messed up   
feelings. He loved Trowa. He loved him more than anyone else he knew. Mysterious, strong,   
beautiful Trowa. "Why you?" Quatre moaned mentally. "Why of all the guys -and girls for that   
matter- why you?" And now Trowa was but a room away and Duo had dragged the other two   
pilots with him to some night club, and Quatre couldn't find the damn guts to go in there and spill   
it. But god, he loved Trowa... he loved the way he moved, the way he talked, he loved the way   
he looked in those little blue swimming trunks... Quatre blushed scarlet at the memory of the time   
the pilots had spent a day at the beach with Relena, Dorothy, Noin, Hilde and Zechs. He couldn't   
stop eyeing Trowa.... Quatre felt his pulse speed up and his face felt hot. "Trowa..." he   
whispered. The small arabian boy began to tremble with desire, as a red hot shiver made its way   
down his back... 

~*~   
I've been to every single book I know   
To soothe the thoughts that plague me so   
I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean   
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion   
Stop before you start   
Be still my beating heart   
~*~ 

"You need a distraction. Find something else to do." Trowa abruptly walked over to the   
mahogany bookshelf, and pulled a random book down from the topmost shelf. He sat on the   
couch again and began reading it. Momentarily, his thoughts were pushed to the back of his brain   
as the story before him unfolded. The story of two friends, each needing the other...not admitting   
it... "Nnnh." He groaned. This wasn't working. Too familiar. He picked another book, some   
horror story, and that worked for a while... until the scene with a seductive blond vampire and the   
tall dark haired innocent mortal in a hot tub together... Angrily Trowa tossed it onto the coffee   
table, and proceeded to pick book after book, reading only a page or two before tossing them   
onto the growing pile in front of him. Before long he was simply standing by the bookshelf in a fit   
of rage, madly throwing book after book towards the center of the room. Some bounced off of   
the couch, others flew through the doorway in the corner, to the small adjoining bedroom beyond.   
One book hit the closed door that led to the hallway. Trowa hefted a thick hardcover novel onto   
his shoulder, then heaved it across the room. It slammed into the wall, then dropped onto an   
expensive looking lamp. With a resounding crash it fell to the floor, bringing down the small table   
it had been sitting on with it. The sound startled Trowa, as if he were being brought out of a   
trance. "Oh God, what am I doing? This cannot be happening...please God tell me this isn't   
happening..." Once again he covered his face and slid to the floor, his back against the wall.   
"Quatre." he whispered, barely audible. "Quatre."   
*   
~*~   
Restore my broken dreams   
Shattered like a falling glass   
I'm not ready to be broken just yet   
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget   
~*~   
  
*   
Quatre uncovered his face and leaned forward again. He took up his work right where he had left   
off, mid sentence. The clacking of keys filled the room, and the bluish light of the screen leant a   
certain pallor to the room behind him. Quatre typed as fast as he could, barely processing what   
words he was putting down. He leaned into the screen, his eyes widening... closer and closer...   
until he hit his nose on the glass. Slightly stunned, he shrank back into his chair, rubbing his   
smarting nose. "No. I don't have to focus on him. I need a cup of tea." He stood up and walked   
out the door, into the brightly lit, carpeted hallway. Slowly he made his way toward the stairwell.   
As he passed Trowa's room, he slowed to a stop. Not really knowing what he was doing, he   
opened the wood door. "Nani!" Trowa exclaimed. Abruptly he turned away from the bookshelf,   
where he had been busy shoving a thick paperback in among the rest. The room was back to   
normal, except for the shards of porcelain from the lamp that he had swept under the coffee table,   
barely visible in the gloom. "Oh, Quatre." He said slowly. "You startled me." "Sorry" the blond   
replied. "I was going downstairs to get a cup of tea, care to join me?" he tried a smile. "Sure."   
Trowa replied. The two headed out the door and down the carpeted stairs. 

In the kitchen Quatre busied himself with heating water, and set sugar, milk and two cups on the   
small kitchen table. Trowa began looking through the cabinets, until he found Quatre's stash, an   
entire shelf stacked with tin after tin of teas. He took a box of chamomile for himself, then turned   
to Quatre. "What kind of tea do you want?" He said slowly. "Hm?" Quatre looked at him. For   
a moment their eyes met, emerald green to sparkling blue. 'His eyes' Quatre thought. 'They're   
so beautiful...so intense.' He gave himself a mental slap. "Oh, tea. I'll have whatever you're   
having." He broke away from Trowa's gaze as the kettle began to whistle shrilly. 'Idiot.' he   
chided himself. 'How obvious can you get?' Trowa took out two teabags and put the box back   
in the cabinet. He put one in each cup, and picked up the two cups to bring them from the table   
to beside the stove. Quatre reached for the kettle, still in a daze. His knuckle brushed the hot   
metal, sending sharp pain lancing up his arm. "Ah!" he half-cried, half-gasped. His hand jerked,   
hooking itself around the kettle's handle. Its boiling contents spattered over the stove and floor.   
Hot water splashed onto Quatre's arm, chest and stomach, soaking through the shirt to the pale   
skin beneath. He clutched his arm, rocking in pain. "Quatre!" Trowa raced over to steady him as   
he nearly fell onto the table. "Nhhh." Quatre moaned in pain. "Sit down," Trowa said calmly.   
He eased Quatre into one of the chairs, then went to the sink. He ran the cold water, and soaked   
a dishcloth in it. He brought it back to Quatre. Slowly, trying not to touch his burned skin,   
Trowa began unbuttoning Quatre's shirt. He blushed profusely, trying not to gape. He began   
dabbing the cloth at the skin. Quatre gasped and bit his lip, but let him continue. "Trowa, please,   
you don't have to..." "Shhh." the tall boy said. "Just hold still." "Nhhh." Quatre shut his eyes,   
squirming away from the cloth involuntarily. "Stop!" Trowa grabbed his wrist. "Huh?" Quatre   
looked at him, and again their eyes met. His mouth dropped open slowly, lost in Trowa's green   
orbs. Abruptly Trowa looked away and continued with his work. He leaned back, checking for   
any missed burns. Deciding it was satisfactory he folded the cloth and pressed it onto Quatre's   
chest, gently massaging it onto his skin to act as a cold compress. "Thank you, Trowa." Quatre   
looked up. He placed a hand on Trowa's. Both shivered at the other's touch. Beams of energy   
seemed to be running between them, almost tangible. Simultaneously, their heads began to move   
closer, tilting to meet the other... and just before their lips touched Quatre's hands slipped around   
Trowa's neck. The kiss was gentle, simple, sealing their promise of feeling for each other. When   
Trowa broke for air Quatre left his eyes closed an extra moment, completely absorbed. Seeing   
this as an open invitation, Trowa kissed his eyelids lightly, and was about to take Quatre's lips in   
his own again when they heard a door slam, and the other three Gundam pilots walked in. Wufei was swaying from side to side, his blue top wrinkled and his hair mussed. Heero looked slightly red in the face and his eyes were glassy. Duo on the other hand, was cheerful as ever. "Hey   
guys!" Noticing Quatre and the lack of his shirt, as well as the extremely short distance between   
the two men's heads, he put a hand to his head and grinned nervously. "Umm, we just got back,   
and I don't know about you two," he turned to Heero and Wufei "but I'm bushed. I'll be   
upstairs. See you guys tomorrow." He skipped out, Heero and Wufei groggily at his heels. "We   
better get to bed too," Trowa said. "Need a hand?" "Thanks," said Quatre. Trowa held out his   
hand and helped the blond boy up, then put a hand around his waist as the two slowly went up the   
stairs.   
*   
~*~   
Be still my beating heart   
You must learn to stand your ground   
It's not healthy to run at this pace   
The blood runs so red to my face   
~*~   
  
*   
"Goodnight, Quatre." Trowa whispered, his arms around the arabian boy. "Goodnight, love"   
answered Quatre, blushing at his spontaneous use of the term. The two leaned in for one quick   
kiss before Quatre stepped into his room. "Aishiteru." Trowa whispered, just before the door   
slipped shut. But somehow he knew that Quatre had heard him. And that he would always   
know. Trowa returned to his room, and quickly got into bed. But he couldn't sleep.   
*   
~*~   
I've been to every single book I know   
To soothe the thoughts that plague me so   
Stop before you start   
Be still my beating heart   
~*~   
  
"Well," Quatre thought to himself. "That was something, wasn't it?" He rubbed his eyes, making   
sure he was actually awake. "Trowa, my love..." he sat on the edge of his bed, looking up at the   
ceiling with his eyes closed. "Now you know. Now you realize just how much it hurt to see you,   
how many nights I dreamed, how many times you seemed so close and yet so far..." He sighed in   
content as he pulled down the bedcovers, slipping between the sheets. He closed his eyes, reliving   
the kiss at the kitchen table. How soft Trowa's hair was... and how warm his lips were. Jolting   
him out of his thoughts, there was a click and the door opened.   
*   
~*~   
Never to be wrong   
Never to make promises that break   
It's like singing in the wind   
Or writing on the surface of a lake   
And I wriggle like a fish caught on dry land   
And I struggle to avoid any help at hand   
I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean   
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion   
~*~   
  
*   
It was Trowa, clad only in his jeans. "Quatre?" He said cautiously. "Here Trowa." Trowa   
walked over to the bed, his feet silent on the carpet. Instantly Quatre moved over to the far side   
of the bed, pulling down the covers. "Are you sure?" Trowa rested one hand on the bed. "Why   
be alone when you know you're not anymore?" Quatre said, smiling. Trowa sighed in relief. He   
climbed in beside Quatre. Gently he moved behind him, putting his arms around the smaller boy's   
waist. And so, in the comfort of each other and with the peace of mind brought with newfound   
love, the two drifted into slumber. 

~*~   
Stop before you start   
Be still   
My beating heart   
~*~

AN: Yes yes I know, sappy, lame and just weird. That sucked, didn't it? Oh well, I've got to   
have something for a first songfic. Please review, flames welcomed! Oh, and if anyone out there   
has a 3x4 songfic, could you give me the title? I'm really interested in what other songs people   
came up with to use. I know there are very few people out there who like Sting... ^_^ 


End file.
